Booty Call Blocked
by AshedPhoenixFeathers
Summary: (Spider-Man/Deadpool comics) Peter tensed and it took a long, terrifying moment before he squinted, and leaned forward. "Shiklah?" He whispered, "What are you doing in my apartment?"


**A few notes. This is set up in the Spider-Man/Deadpool comics. This is after Shiklah divorces Wade and marries Dracula, and after the whole LMD debacle where Peter was nearly cut in half by the Deadpool LMD (spoilers, I guess, to those who haven't read that far, and warning for more spoilers). However, the arc where Deadpool and Spidey go on their road-trip has not happened, and instead, they moved in together in New York and are trying to get theirs lives back together. They've been dating for a few months now. **

It's been a while since Peter's spider-sense has gone off while he was asleep.

And it's _definitely _been a while since he woke up to a teeth-baring demon-lady towering him with death in her eyes.

Peter nearly jumped out of his skin as soon as they made eye-contact, and would've propelled himself onto the safety of ceiling if not for the 210 pounds of anti-hero in his arms. He _did_ tense up, and it took a long, terrifying moment before he squinted at the shadowed figure and leaned forward.

"Shiklah?" He whispered, "Is that you? What are you doing in my apartment?"

She was glaring at him so enraged, Peter was surprised she wasn't strangling him yet. Anyone who has ever looked at him like that has inflicted _some _sort of pain on him. And to be honest, he's not sure why she's so angry in the first place. Until the man in his arms shifts a little and it hits him.

He's currently in bed. With her ex-husband. Naked.

And, given that information - and the fact that she looked ready to shred his corpse and hang it on her wall as a trophy - Peter should've been utterly terrified. It was a reasonable reaction to the circumstances. But the thing is, they had been a painfully long patrol earlier that day and he was _exhausted. _His brain was still half-asleep and the other half was _this_ close to following it. In fact, the only thing keeping him up was his spider-sense buzzing like a bunch of crazy hornets caged up in his skull.

"Okay," he whispered, "_Okay, _you look _super_ pissed and all, but please keep it down. This is the first night in a while that Wade has slept this good and I don't want to wake him up."

Her glare hardened and Peter expects her to start yelling. Surprisingly enough, she whispered seethingly, and gestured around widely, "_What _is the meaning of this?"

Peter glanced around the room, pursing his lips, "Well, it's not exactly a pent-house, but it's not bad. Honestly, the mess was _way _worse a few days ago, but we cleaned it up after -"

"Why," she interrupted, pointing at Wade, "is he here?"

At that, Peter froze and glanced down at Wade, who was snuggled deeply in their shared comforter, face relaxed and peaceful. He glared back at Shiklah, "Why do you _think _he's -" he paused, pinching the bridge of his nose. The movement made Wade stir, and Peter stopped until he settled again. His brain was reawakening now, and with it, a few questions of his own. Like, for instance, why the hell Shiklah, Wade's ex-wife, was getting mad about him being in the same bed as him?

When Wade wasn't in danger of waking, Peter whispered, "Know what, let's not do this in here. We can talk about it in the living room," and beckoned for her to go. He slipped out from behind Wade, and stepped out of bed, only to cover his very nude self from Shiklah, who was still standing there.

"Excuse me," he said, shooing her off, "This isn't a private show. I'll meet you in the living room."

Shiklah looked absolutely murderous, but also kind of confused. She looked between him and Wade, fingers flexing as if physically restraining herself from slicing his throat open. Then, very slowly, she backed up and stalked out of the bedroom like a tiger decided to re-evaluate its prey.

Peter scrambled for the closest pair of pants as soon as she was out of the room, settled on a pair of Wade's sweatpants, and tip-toed his way out of the room. He stopped to peaking inside once more to make sure Wade was still asleep, before closing the door. As soon as he turned though, Shiklah was back in his face.

"What is he doing in there?" She repeated, eyes narrowing.

Peter stifled a yelp and jumped up on the wall, a hand splayed across his chest. He grumbled something about giving him a heart attack and crawled along the ceiling, into the kitchen, asking over his shoulder, "You want some tea?"

Shiklah followed him, steps surprisingly quiet. "I want answers. Now. Before my patience runs thin." She watched as he jumped back down the ceiling after retrieving a box of tea packets from the pantry. "You're Spider-Man, aren't you."

"The one and only," he said, taking a pan out of the cupboards. "And you're Shiklah, Queen of the undead and monsters, I think. Excuse me for not screaming in terror, but we gotta keep it down. I wasn't kidding about Wade needing the sleep. He hasn't been sleeping well for the past few weeks - you know, _nightmares - _so I don't want to ruin it for him."

That Shiklah seemed to consider that. She still looked two seconds away from splitting his skull open but opted to lean back against the counter instead, arms folded tightly. "Yes, I remember such problems. Very well, I'll gut you silently."

"How very polite of you," Peter said, dumping water into the pan. "How about we just get to the bottom of this. Like why _you're _here. Technically, you just broke into my apartment. That's illegal."

Shiklah scoffed, "As if you're human justice systems are any good," she sniffed, and Peter shrugged, not exactly disagreeing. He rummaged through the cupboards for some clean mugs, found one, washed another, and brought them to the stove.

"Still didn't answer the question, though," he said, finally turning around to face her. "Why are you here, Shiklah? Shouldn't you be in Transylvania or something, playing video-grames with Dracula in your underwear?"

"You didn't answer me either," she snapped, "why hasn't Wade responded to my messages? Why is he here with you?"

"Maybe because we live together, and it's," he glanced at the microwave clock, "1:47 in the morning. Despite the bias of the internet, superheroes need sleep too. As for you're messages, I have no idea about those. I didn't even know you two were still in _contact_, so you'll have to figure out that one yourself. Now, as for my questions..."

"I'm here to see Wade," she said, "Dracula has gotten...dull. For someone so 'ancient' you'd think he'd pick up a few new tricks in bed."

"So," Peter muttered, glowering, "You're here to get, what? Laid?"

"That is one explanation, yes."

Peter blinked and ran a hand through his hair. He took a deep, _deep _breath and turned around to pour the boiling water into the mugs. "Well," he said, plopping in two tea bags, "I think I just found our first problem. See, thing is Shiklah, you kind of _divorced_ Wade. You're also kind of _married _to someone else who, I'm guessing, doesn't know you're here."

"Oh please," Shiklah snapped, taking the offered Thor mug and followed Peter into the living room. "As if Dracula could stop me. He knows he could do better, and I already informed him that if he can't satisfy me, I'll find someone who can."

"Did you tell him you planned on having sex with your ex-husband,"

She waved him off flittingly as she sat opposite to him on their couch, while Peter took the armchair. He blew on his tea, as she looked into her cup with a wrinkled nose. "What was this beverage, again?"

"Tea. You know, leaves and spices in hot water. Very soothing. Now, as for you trying to have sex with my boyfriend."

She pulled her eyes away from the tea, nose still wrinkled, "Agh," she sneered, "I _knew _it. It was only a matter of time before you two got together. The signs were all there."

"Signs," Peter repeated, "what signs? We've only been dating for a few months. Jeez. Why does everyone act like it was _bound _to happen? First Logan, then Johnny, now you."

"That doesn't matter," she waved him off, lips pursing sourly, "I still don't see why he didn't respond to me."

"Um, maybe because he's not just a thing you can go to if you need to get laid," Peter said, glaring as he set his cup down. "YOU divorced HIM, remember? You just upped and _left _him for Dracula. And you expect to just show up and demand sex whenever you feel like it?"

Shiklah scowled, clawed fingers curling around the mugs handle, "I left him a note. I told him Dracula probably wouldn't be as good and that I'd be in touch."

"Oh, you left a _note_," Peter drawled, "Well then, I guess that makes it all better, now doesn't it."

She growled, putting her cup down strong enough for it to crack, "Don't presume to judge me, mortal! I can kill you as easily as you could spin your webs. _I _was married to him. We have our own system."

"Oh, and I suppose leaving him out of the blue and marrying some weirdo-in tightie whities was part of that system, then. You _hurt _him Shiklah. He was trying to stop a war between monsters and mortals, he wasn't trying to lose his wife."

"Don't pretend that he was completely innocent in the matter. Not him or his precious little humans. While he was prancing and prattling above with _you, _getting into trouble and shirking his duties, me and my people were below being oppressed by humankind."

At that, Peter slammed his own cup down, but barely remembered to keep it down, so it was less of a slam and more of a firm thud. "You can't _honestly _be playing the victim card. Okay, yeah, I agree, you're people could've been treated a hell of a lot better, and a couple of those people had a few things coming. But don't start blaming all your marriage problems on Wade. _You _were the one sleeping around. _You _cheated on him."

Shiklah hissed at him, "Only because he wouldn't get things done himself! I was patient. I waited for him to indulge his little crush on you, but he took too long. I have needs too. Besides, for all I knew, he was fucking _you_."

Peter jaw dropped and he recoiled as if she'd just slapped him with a soggy tea-packet. "You - you think he was fuc - oh, _oh_." He jabbed a finger at her, "How dare you. Wade may be a lot of things, but he's not a _cheater_. We never slept together! Not once." He paused. "Okay, not once when you guys were _married_."

"What about those pictures of you two dancing in your underwear at his club? Surely _that _is not something best friends do."

"We-well, wow would you know?" Peter sputtered, face flushing, "That was - that was _completely _out of context. We did that because we wrongly treated to wonderful, powerful beings, and we were making it up to them. We - we weren't doing it _for _each other or anything, we -" he stuffed his nose back into the mug to prevent himself from word-vomiting anything else.

Shiklah scowled and picked back up her cup. After a moment, she fidgeted, clinking her nails against the cup. She scoffed and glanced to the side, but her expression was less sure. "I - I'm not in the wrong here," she said, though she sounded far less confident.

Peter took a breath and set his drink down again, "Look, I'm not saying you're _all _to blame here. Yeah, Wade was kind of...well, neglecting you, and that totally _sucks_. I agree that he should've paid more attention to you and your needs and that it was wrong of him to ignore you as he did. But you guys should've talked things out before jumping the gun."

"I suppose...perhaps, you might be a little correct," she muttered, picking up her cup again. "But you two _are _fucking now, aren't you."

"Dating," Peter grimaced, "We're dating, which means, yeah, we have sex too. But we go on dates and do datey things. We don't just fuck all the time, jeez." He paused again. "Okay, maybe we do it a lot, but it's not _all _we do."

She shrugged. She stared at the coffee table, swirling the contents of her cup thoughtfully when a somewhat dreamy smile fell over her face, "He is really good at it though. Sex, I mean."

Peter picked at his sweatpants and hid his flushing face behind a forced cough. "Yeah," he muttered, "He uh," he coughed again, "He is really good at it."

"He has a way of making you feel special, doesn't she," she continued, "Like it's just the two of you. No one else. And that you're all that matters."

"Yeah," Peter agreed, forgetting his embarrassment to smile softly. Then frowned, "Is it just me, or does he always looks so astounded when you actually love him back. He always gets this look on his face, like he doesn't deserve it or something, you know? like he doesn't expect to be cherished too."

Shiklah nodded, frowning into her glass as if it offended. "Yeah, I noticed that too. " She looked up, meeting his eye in a new appreciation. "Are you making him feel loved."

"Well," Peter blew out his cheeks, "I'm trying to. He's convinced he doesn't deserve it though."

Shiklah nodded, eyes roaming over him as if searching for something. After a long, tense moment, she broke the silence. "That scar," she tipped her head toward Peter's abdomen, "Where'd you get it? Must've been a grave battle."

"Ah, _that_," Peter chuckled humorlessly, rubbing his palms on his sweatpants to resist touching along the deep scar that stretched across his sides and most of his back. "I - uh, got that from the LMD breakout a while back. I was, uh, cut by an LMD. Nearly in half. It was...it was definitely an experience. Almost died."

"Huh," she pressed her lips to the cup, taking a large drink - Peter was struck with the urge to tell her that tea was normally sipped, especially when it was still hot, but decided he didn't want to be gutted. "Then how'd you survive?"

Peter grabbed his knees, knocking them together and smiled, "It was Deadpool, actually, who saved me. Gave me some of his blood and," he made a zipping motion, "just sealed it right up. Was still in the hospital a while, but it was a lot better than being dead."

"I see," Shiklah set down her cup and leaned back into their stained old couch, observing Peter as if he were a specimen she's never seen before. "That would be the 3rd time he's saved you from Death."

Peter recoiled, as if that just occurred to him, before settling back in his own chair. "Yeah," he whispered, eyes soft. "I guess so."

"Granted, the first two times he shot you himself," she added unceremoniously, "The second time because you weren't being tortured in Hell like you were supposed to be. But I suppose that worked out."

Peter grimaced, "Yeah, I guess that's one way to put it. It was an LMD disguised as him that almost cut me in half too," he peered over his shoulder, toward the bedroom, as if to catch a glimpse of the man in topic. "He can never catch a break, can he?"

Shiklah followed his gaze, tugging on the gold cuffs on her wrist. "No," she said, eyes downcast, "He doesn't really, does he?"

It was quiet between them, the silence only disrupted by the occasional shuffle of one of her monster guards outside. Then, all at once, she got to her feet, sweeping her long, velvety sash behind her. "Well, I should go. I see that I will not be getting a good fuck as I intended." She held out her hand, "Surprisingly, it was a pleasure meeting you, Peter Parker,"

Peter deadpanned at her blatant comment, but grabbed her hand no less and shook it. "Surprisingly, it was a pleasure to meet you too. Well, to officially meet you, that is."

She grinned, a sharp, toothy grin that reminded him of a shark, before he was pulled in aggressively, so close to her face that he could see her bared teeth and narrowed, slit eyes. "And _if_ you ever hurt him, mortal, then you will face the wrath of the Queen of Monsters. You will carve his name in your own flesh in penance. You will endure pain so excruciating you will wish you'd died and gone to Hell, where you'd be tortured for the rest of your existence in the most gruesome ways possible. Cross him and you cross me, and I promise, that it something you will _not _survive."

Peter couldn't find his voice for several seconds, but when it came back he wasn't embarrassed that it was a few octaves higher, "I - I would never hurt, Wade. I won't, I promise."

She glared at him a few seconds longer, before her gaze softened, "I believe you," she let him go, and Peter didn't hesitate to put the armchair in-between them as he held his bruised hand close to the chest.

"I won't hurt him," he repeated, more firmly this time, "I promise. And if you do, I give my consent to put me through Hell for it."

Shiklah smiled, a warmer smile, as if his consent for his own torture was just the thing she needed to hear. "Good. Pray that we never meet in those circumstances." She turned, satin fabric flowing behind her as she walked soundlessly across the room. She paused as she opened the door, to add over her shoulder, "I see why he likes you. Take care of him for me, Peter Parker. I fear I did not treat him as well as I should've."

"I will," Peter said, smiling back. She turned to leave but stopped when he said, "And Shiklah, Wade really loved you too. I hope you know how much you still mean to him."

Peter wasn't sure, but he could've sworn she was smiling. "Thank you," she whispered, then the door closed and she was gone. Peter stared at the door a while longer, before collecting both of their cups, cleaned and put them away, turned the light off, and returned to the bedroom. He shirked off the sweatpants, knowing it wouldn't escape Wade's attention if he woke up to Peter wearing them (and he refused to let the man believe it was because of his skin), and slipped in next to him. He pressed close to him, wrapping his arms around Wade's middle to bring him close.

Shiklah's threat still rang in his ears, and while he was certain she'd go through with it, he wasn't going to love Wade just because she threatened him too. He was going to love him because, as terrible as Wade's past is, and complex as he could be, he was a good person. He's saved Peter so many times he couldn't name them all. Wade deserved love and happiness, and Peter was determined to give it to him.

He pressed his lips between his shoulders to seal it with a kiss and snuggled closer. If it were possible, it was _that _that stirred him.

"M'Petey," he whispered, groggy and slurred. "You good?"

Peter grinned in his skin and maneuvered around so he could press a long, deep kiss to Wade's lips, that earned him a soft, surprised sleepy sound. "All good, babe. Just go back to sleep."

Wade hummed, sounding as though he were already halfway there, "Okay."

Peter resettled behind him, pressing closer, and closed his eyes. Despite the night's events, he was fast asleep within minutes, with Wade close to his chest, feeling nothing but love and content for the man in his arms.

**The reason Wade never responded to Shiklah's messages, was because he didn't want to indulge Shiklah, nor did he want to cheat on Peter. He didn't think Shiklah would seek him out, so ignored them instead, hoping it would be easier than having to reject her. **

**Did anyone else think it was incredibly rude how Shiklah just tossed Wade to the side for Dracula? But I still imagine she could be a pretty cool and understanding character, and she still cares for Wade. So we got mild jealous!Shiklah, but more protective!Shiklah, because, yeah, she married Drac, but she still cares for Wade and doesn't want to see him hurt anymore. **

**Anywho, this is just an idea that's been festering in my head for a while now, and I'm so glad to finally get it out! **


End file.
